The Problem with Thoughts
by Spirit of Gray
Summary: When the Doctor arrives at 13 Paternoster Row, the Paternoster Gang become worried. They have no choice, really. He's catatonic, and can't take care of himself. Then things get worse. Trigger Warnings for self-harm and mental instability. Prequel to "Then Do Not Think".


He knew the TARDIS was disappointed with his state (or him altogether) when he heard the voice interface say, "Emergency Protocol initiated".

As a response, he went deeper within her, trying to escape the inevitable: when someone ignorant enough who called him "friend" would find them and look for him.

He wasn't sure how long it had been, but since the Sunlight Worlds with the Daleks, he had not really done anything. Why would he, when he had promised to himself, "No more meddling"?

He instead contented himself with just wandering around without any purpose or thought (for he didn't wish to think; thinking was rubbish).

Or he just sat around, still doing (and thinking of) nothing.

There was nothing wrong with that, was there? The only person he was bothering was the TARDIS, and she could just pilot herself wherever she wanted. He put her on autopilot, just so she could still travel without being tethered by him and his unwillingness to do so.

However, when an emergency protocol was initiated when they were just drifting around, he knew what it was for and decided that it was best for whoever the TARDIS decided to go to for him...not to be around.

He could only hope it would work. However, the TARDIS seemed to have programmed the hallways on a loop, and after a while of walking (still in mid-flight), he arrived back in the console room.

So he shook his head and muttered faint curses (not at that TARDIS, never at the TARDIS), and ran into the nearest room he could find.

Fittingly, it was the library. And most definitely _not_ what he needed at the moment. He remembered bringing River to the Singing Towers like it was yesterday (while it was probably a few weeks), and guilt washed over him like he was its loving father.

So he ran out of the library, and tried to reason with himself.

Libraries had books, and books warranted reading, and reading required thinking. He didn't want to think, so he decided to avoid books.

He ran to the next nearest room, to find it empty. It was small too, with a soft gray carpet and dark walls. His breath quickened, and he started hyperventilating. The room was so small and he could see the dark walls closing in around him and consuming him and he couldn't take it. He ran out of the room, properly terrified.

"That isn't funny!" he yelled loudly. The TARDIS only met his protests with a mournful hum. They had landed by then, and he still had not hidden.

He then ran farther down the corridor, and tried a random room. He wondered if the TARDIS was putting undesirable rooms near him on purpose, trying to get him to stay in open sight.

So, in his mind, he begged her to let him have _one _normal room that wouldn't make him terrified or feel guilty. He didn't want to feel emotions, and especially not the negative ones.

So he opened the new door and saw a large room, full of something that looked similar to a musical ensemble. It was dark everywhere except where the instruments were (on a stage?). Thanking her, he decided to run to the closest corner and he slumped there, going into the fetal position.

The only thing he focused on was how to not think. He did realize, of course, that concentrating required thinking, but concentrating on a useless task would cause the trance to go on forever, wouldn't it?

So he focused on that and all the philosophy behind it, for an indeterminable amount of time. He was losing track of time a lot lately, which was not very typical for a Time Lord. After all, what was the point of being a Time Lord when his own biological clock was unwound?

Then he choked out a sob. He started remembering how his biological senses of time should have worked and that brought him to thinking of his people. The people who he murdered in a grotesque display of loyalty to a universe that didn't care.

Then he started sobbing. He could hear himself doing it, but he couldn't quite feel it. It was as if he was watching his own body from his eyes, but not quite there. He couldn't quite _feel_ anything. It wasn't as if he _couldn't_ feel the tears streaming down his face, but it was more like he was feeling it second-hand. It was too hot yet too far away to be really him experiencing it.

Eventually, he felt the tears stop, and dry on his face.

He felt (in that odd second-hand way) dirty and unclean, but couldn't will the energy to himself to pull himself up and take care of himself. It just seemed like too much effort. And what was wrong with just staying down in the corner anyway? If he never got up again, wouldn't it spare billions of people the danger of his existence?

Finding much more reason to stay down than to arise, he stayed curled up in his corner.

And then he felt a soft hand at his shoulder.

"Doctor? Is that you?" a kind, female, _human_ voice asked. He didn't respond. He wasn't the Doctor anymore, so he wouldn't answer to that "name".

"That is him, Jenny," another female voice answered. That voice wasn't human though. He would be curious and look to see who they were if he was in his normal state (a façade since Manhattan, and perhaps before), but at the moment, he currently hadn't a care for who exactly the TARDIS had picked out to help him.

"He isn't responding," the second voice said. There was something poking at his head. Was that what she was referring to?

"We should get him out of here," the first voice, Jenny, decreed.

Suddenly, he felt something lifting his arms up, gently, and his arms being placed around something, lifting him to his feet (unsteady, unsteady).

He wasn't quite aware of what was happening, only that the room he was in was much, much brighter than he had remembered previously. He realized that the TARDIS probably turned the lights on, but only on a subconscious level.

On a conscious level (which seemed to be rather tunnel-minded, at the moment), he was aware that he was led outside the TARDIS, into a warm house, even as the warmth did not truly reach him, and simultaneously felt too hot on his skin. He was also aware that one of the people leading him away was green.

Then he was aware of being placed onto a couch, and then being examined by something brown (a potato?) with a loud voice.

"He is catatonic," the voice said.

"We know that Strax. What we _want_ to know is his current health," the green woman said.

"He hasn't eaten in many days, perhaps over a week. He is severely dehydrated as well, Madame."

Madame- he had heard that before. It wasn't a name, he was certain, but a title. The green woman certainly had the air around her that warranted a title. He couldn't help but feel an odd recognition for the Madame. He knew they had met (for the TARDIS had chosen them), but he couldn't place them in his mind. He couldn't find the energy to care, though.

"Do we have any intravenous drips?" the Madame asked.

"No, and we can't get them in this time-period," Strax answered.

"Let's try to get him to drink something," the Madame decided.

So then he was picked up and led to a table and sat down in a chair and a glass of water was placed before him. "Can you try to drink this?" the Madame asked kindly.

Then he saw a hand (was it his?) pick up the glass and bring it to his dry and thirty mouth. He took a single sip before putting the glass down.

"Good, very good," she encouraged, "But you need to drink more than that."

So he(?) picked up the glass once more and started drinking it, not stopping until it was all gone and into his body.

Then the glass was taken from him before he could even set it back to the table, and something sat down next to him.

"Jenny's preparing some food for you. Will you eat it?"

He didn't turn to look at her, even as he was starting to get a semblance of who it was (words like "ally" and "friend" and "demon" kept coming to his mind).

Then a gentle (but firm) hand turned him against his will (which he couldn't exert) towards the woman he had been identifying as "the Madame".

"Doctor?" she asked. "Will you eat?"

He didn't answer, and she sighed. Then Strax, who had watched the whole spectacle, said, "It seems to be a combination of stupor, autonomic responses, and perhaps withdrawal."

Then, "I recommend introducing him to the field of battle, where he will regain his sensib-"

"Strax, I fear that is not a recommendable course of action. What if he does not and ends up getting killed?" the Madame argued.

"Then the problem will be solved," Strax claimed.

"How would the problem be solved?" cried the Madame in disbelief.

"He will no longer be catatonic- but dead," Strax reasoned.

"That is not a desirable result, Strax," she scolded. "He is our friend. We don't want to kill him."

Strax merely shrugged, and watched as Jenny brought out a plate of food. "He should eat all of it slowly," Strax advised.

"Thank you, Strax," the Madame admonished, "Go and check on the horses. Have you fed _them_ recently?"

Strax froze for a second, and then started walking out of the room. The Madame them turned and said to Jenny, "I need to review the cases. Would you get him to eat?"

"Of course, Vastra," she answered dutifully. Then the Madame (Vastra?) left and he was left facing Jenny. She was looking at him, and pointed at the plate.

"Doctor," she attempted, "Try to eat your food now."

While he was disconnected to the name "Doctor", he knew saw his hand (once again moving without his permission) pick up a fork and start poking at some unidentifiable food.

"That's good, eat it all," Jenny murmured in approval.

And he continued to eat, without his consent. Then, before he was aware, he had finished and put down the fork.

Then the plate was taken and he was left focusing on the part of the table where it had been. Then he heard, "Stand up," from her. And his body stood (while his mind was screaming at him to stay down) and then he was told to turn around and he did that too.

Jenny then told him to follow her, and she led him to a room with exotic plants and told him to sit at a chair. So he sat and looked forward.

"What should we do with him?" Jenny asked.

"We should make sure he stays healthy until he's able to take care of himself."

For some reason, he didn't like the sound of that. Was there something wrong with it? He couldn't tell.

* * *

He was like that for around eight days, and that was when he noticed it.

His mind was the same as it was when he had arrived (disconnected), but he managed to find something that _made him connect_. It scared him, but it helped him immensely because he wanted to stop burdening his friends (who he remembered and recognized quite clearly now).

It started on the third day. He was eating (while being watched, which he would normally find odd or creepy but he just _didn't care_) with the Paternoster Gang, and he was eating when he bit his tongue. Then, just briefly, while the pain lasted, he could feel his mind _connect _(or what he thought was connecting) and he could control his own muscles for a second and then it was gone. It was as if the pain had called him back to reality.

The Madame (who he never called Vastra), Jenny, and Strax didn't notice though, it was so short. They were discussing a case (which he hadn't known before), so perhaps they weren't paying attention (good, good), and he was aware of everything in that second. Even his internal biological time-awareness was working (so he knew that he was aware for a nanospan, equivalent for zero point six eight seconds).

But then it was gone and he felt only second-hand intrigue for his sudden change of condition. Was it the pain or was it just the sensation of touch? Or was him biting his tongue just a coincidence?

Either way, it was an improvement.

The next time it happened, was the next day, when he was walking with the Madame outside that morning. They were hoping that something would trigger him out of his catatonia. The trigger, though, was when the Madame fell. There was a tree-root, where she was not looking. Instinctively, she latched onto the nearest thing that could keep her up. That happened to be his arm. He didn't mind it (or anything else, for that matter), even as it would probably bruise him. Then, in startling clarity, he grabbed her arm and pulled her up.

Then she let go of him and his clarity was gone and he was catatonic again. She observed him, and rushed him inside, trying to figure out if it was a reflex or if he was showing progress.

In the end, he wasn't sure what she decided, because he was sure that Strax came in and checked him too. After that, they stopped calling him catatonic. They started saying he had disassociation instead.

The time after that was day six. He was alone this time (which was rare) and sitting down calmly, near the fireplace, where he was staring into the flames.

Then a single tendril of fire seemed to get closer to him and a slightly larger ember landed on his hand.

He didn't care to move it off, even as he felt it burn him, and the startling clarity appeared again.

He then heard the crackling of the fire in real-time and felt the intensity of its heat and was able to move his hand and then the ember cooled off and his clarity was gone and he was frozen and unable to move and out-of-touch.

When the Paternoster Gang came back, they didn't notice that his hand was in a slightly different position.

Then there was what happened on the eighth day. They were asking him questions, trying to get him to speak (though he was mute), and then a loud bang sounded from outside of the room.

Then there was another bang and another. "Gunshots!" Jenny said.

"Apes have guns in this time period?" the Madame asked, standing up.

"Of course we do!" Jenny yelled, rushing out the door.

Then he started shaking.

"Doctor? What's wrong?" the Madame said, concerned.

He didn't answer though (he never did), and Strax did for him, "The sound of guns may have caused him to draw out of his unresponsive state."

"May have?" the Madame asked. Strax looked to the side, then directly at her, "We cannot know for certain."

"Well his reaction is _bad,_" she decided. The shots had stopped, but he continued to shake.

He wasn't sure why, but then he briefly imagined himself _getting _shot, and the shaking stopped, and the clarity returned and he stood shakily.

"Doctor?" the Madame addressed.

"Yes," he murmured, his voice quiet and raw from disuse, "Yes."

"Are you alright?" she asked. "Yes, thank you," he said, looking her in the eye.

The Madame bit her lip and said, "Strax, go with Jenny and see what the gunshots were from."

Strax obediently went after Jenny and left the two alone.

The Madame then sat down and nodded at the him.

"Do sit down, Doctor," she invited. So he sat and continued staring at her.

"Do you remember the past week?"

"Yes, but I've been here eight days," he corrected.

"Do you remember when we found you?" she asked.

"I was in a room, in a corner," he stated.

"Yes, you were. How long, though?"

"I don't know," he whispered, his voice becoming hoarse.

"When did you go in there?" she asked, hoping that he would know. "Was it before or after you landed here?"

"It was during," he tried to say, while his voice started becoming quiet.

The Madame's eye widened while Jenny and Strax walked into the room. She turned her attention towards them, standing up. "What were the shots for?" she asked, ignoring him. Not that he minded.

"Someone decided to shoot at a tree for target practice," Jenny sighed. "It's too late at night for this."

"I agree," the Madame said, walking around to him, and then placing her hand on his shoulder. "However, something good did come out of it."

"Is he improving?" Jenny probed with excitement. "He's speaking now," the Madame said carefully, "But he may regress."

He felt a surge of annoyance flash through him. Why were they speaking as if he wasn't there? Then his annoyance placated, when he realized that for the longest time, he wasn't, and they were now accustomed to that.

They spoke for a while, with Strax advising them with his professional medical opinion, until they finally decided that he would stay under observation for the next few days (much to his dismay).

Then the Madame glanced at him, and said, "I don't understand how he's able to walk or stand."

Strax and Jenny both looked at her, and asked simultaneously (which was an odd-sounding mix of human-female high and Sontaran-low), "Why?"

"He was in that corner for four days."

That was news to him. Was that how long it had taken them to find him, or perhaps just enter the TARDIS?

_Youshouldneverhavebeenfound_

That thought surprised him. It wasn't the fact that it spoke in second-person (he was disassociated, after all), but rather that it thought the one thought he would never dare think (even as he knew it to be true).

He ignored the next few things that happened (when they led him to the room they had placed him in at night and told him to sleep), on concentrated on what forced him out of his stupor- forced him to _connect_.

Inevitably, he remembered when he was connected the first three times, with the one think that linked them. He was in some sort of pain. The first pain was sharp, but brief (bit tongues only hurt for a few moments), the next allowed him to move (when he was slightly bruised, but that also only lasted for a short time). The third one lasted longer, and he was able to _move_ longer, but only while the pain lasted.

And this time... he was just imagining himself being in pain and hurt and _dying _and then he was alright and able to communicate and speak and be _normal-_

He was scared.

Then he disconnected.

If he was in his right-mind, he would have likened it to a computer with a virus that turned off by itself with no warning. Then again, now that he knew what caused him to disconnect (the opposite of what caused him to reconnect).

_Reconnecttheythoughtyouweremakingprogressandthentheywillletyouleaveandtheywillnotbeburdenedbyyou_

So, even though he was disconnected, he forced himself over to one of the walls, and took off his shoe, and kicked the wall as hard as he could. Luckily, there was only a quiet thud, so his keepers wouldn't hear him, and he reconnected from the sweet pain.

His foot was on fire, but he didn't mind (he had worse), and he even felt a semblance of enjoyment that he knew how to reconnect.

It was the best he had felt since the Sunlight Worlds and Darillium and Manhattan. It astounded him that he was able to feel at all, because he was determined to become a recluse.

However, he was content, and threw himself down on the bed, and tried not to be too bored with his surroundings.

Then he felt an irrational bout of fear. His breathing deepened as he attempted to control his fear. When he realized what it was for, he rushed to the door and tried it.

It was locked. _Damn._ He was locked in to a small and dark room with no windows and it was so _small_ and he could feel the walls closing in and his air was running out. Memories of the Pandorica rushed to him.

_MostfearedcreatureintheuniverseGoblinDemonMonsterTricksterEvilOne_

He started hyperventilating and stumbled back, too terrified to properly think as he fell onto the bed.

"Doctor, are you alright?" the Madame asked.

His throat closed up, and he scrambled back on the bed to a nearby wall. His head hit it with a satisfying thud.

"I'm coming in," she warned. She gave him a second before she unlocked the door and came in, flooding the door with light.

Luckily, where he was in the corner allowed him to avoid said light and stay hidden in the darkness. It didn't help him with hiding, the room was so small. The Madame approached him slowly, the same one would to a frightened animal, and asked him, "What's wrong?"

He started shaking, and tried to get as close to the corner as he could, unable to speak.

Suddenly, she spun around and yelled, "Strax! We need you!"

Then she turned to him and said, "Come out of the corner, Doctor."

When he didn't, she put her hand on his shoulder, and tried to gently pry him away. However, he instead violently pulled back, his back and head hitting the back wall with an even heavier sound.

Strax rushed into the room, and said in a voice entirely too loud for the tiny room, "What is the problem? Will it require a grenade?"

"Do we have any sedatives?" she asked impatiently.

"We do. I will get them now," he said, running to some other room.

"Calm down, Doctor!" the Madame ordered. Still, he shook and once again refused her attempts to dislodge him.

"What the 'ell is goin' on in here?" Jenny said, noticing the commotion.

"He's having some sort of panic attack. Strax is fetching a sedative," the Madame explained as hastily as she continued to struggle with him.

A few moments later, Strax arrived with a needle.

"Step away from him," he ordered. The Madame did, and Strax approached him with the needle.

Then he felt a jab into his arm and his world went dark.

* * *

He woke up lying down. When he tried to get up, he found himself retrained with strong rope softened with bits of cloth. He looked out the window to see that the sun was just rising past the horizon.

He was wary of the restraints, but didn't have a full panic attack as he did to the room.

The only thing he really felt (besides boredom) was the fear that was residue to claustrophobia and hoping that he hadn't hurt anyone with his actions.

_Youalwaysdo_

So he waited until one of them came into the room.

It was Strax, naturally, since he doubted being restrained was something that Jenny or the Madame would think of. Well, the Madame might, but she would-

"Are you awake, sir?" Strax asked.

"Yes I am, and please don't call me 'sir'", he cringed. Delicately, he tried to get a good sense on how long he was out, only for him to shrug his result off in disbelief.

Strax merely ignored him and looked over his body. He had been changed (to his embarrassment) into a Victorian suit (similar, but not quite the same to what he had been wearing), which was rolled up at the sleeves.

Then he exited the room, and came back a few minutes later with the Madame and Jenny in tow.

The Madame checked him over herself, and asked him calmly, "What happened back there?"

Narrowing his eyes, he shrugged, "How long was I out?"

The Madame stepped close to his head and put her hand over his eyes. "Don't play games, Doctor. You know how long."

He blinked a few times, trying to have her move her hand, while he said, "I don't know, that's why I'm asking."

"So will this be an exchange of questions? We're willing to operate that way," the Madame offered.

"That's my only question, so, sure," he decided.

The Madame removed her hand and moved behind him. "Then we'll tell you, but only after you answer all of our questions."

He considered this, before realizing that he was in no position to bargain, and nodded.

"Good," she said, "Now, what happened back there?"

"I'm not entirely sure," he claimed, "Probably a panic attack."

"To what?" the Madame inquired. "I don't know," he lied.

Suddenly, he felt her hands on his head, breaking through his mental barrier. "That was a lie, Doctor," she warned, her annoyance traveling to him telepathically.

He shifted in discomfort, and then he muttered, "Claustrophobia."

However, they all looked at him (or he assumed, the Madame was also), and then, "Speak louder," Jenny suggested. He hardly even noticed her and Strax in the room (was the Madame that commanding a presence?), and they were both standing near him, almost as close as the Madame, ready if he somehow slipped his restraints and tried to escape.

"Claustrophobia," he repeated, louder.

"Have you always had this, or is a something you developed?" Strax asked.

He wiggled more, as if trying to get away from the conversation. "Developed."

"How?" Jenny encouraged. Not willing to reveal-

_Notwillingtotellthemofhowyouwerenamedtheworstbeingintheuniverseyouselfishmonster_

-the true reason, muttered, "Bad luck."

"That was a lie," the Madame said. "No," he argued, "That was a vague truth."

Then, "Is this relevant?"

"I thought you had only one question," Jenny smirked.

"I changed my mind," he said sullenly.

"No, I suppose it isn't relevant," the Madame sighed dramatically, "Though it is interesting. Do you know why the TARDIS brought you here?"

"I was..." he began, trying to put what happened into words, "I was concerning her."

With this obvious evasion, he was thankful when they didn't press.

"Are you aware that it doesn't want you to leave?" the Madame asked.

"The TARDIS is a _girl_," he emphasized, making sure the Madame felt his annoyance, "And why doesn't she?"

"According to the voice interface, you're depressed, and a danger to yourself," Jenny said, "And that you were unable to care for yourself."

"She was correct, as we found," the Madame added.

"Our last question- why did the gunshots take you out of your disassociation?"

He hesitated. "It's complicated," he admitted.

"We have time," the Madame challenged.

"I- I imagined that I was getting shot, and I started becoming lucid," he explained.

"Does getting shot scare you?" Jenny asked. He shook his head.

"Then what drew you out? Do you want to get shot?" the Madame questioned, probably feeling his subconscious reminisce of the desire he had felt.

"Yes," he answered easily, guessing knowing that she had already known. Her hands, light on his head, suddenly added pressure.

"When I fell and you helped me up- were you in control then?" she asked, fear also seeping through the psychic link.

"Yes," he said, "But only for a few seconds."

"What triggered that?" the Madame asked carefully. He rolled his eyes back, trying to meet her eyes. "You fell."

"Yes, but what _triggered_ you? That's not the reason."

"You grabbed me," he murmured, "And it hurt a bit. That's what dragged me back."

"The pain?"

"Yes," he muttered, his eyes closing, trying to focus on his mental barriers to force the Madame out.

"Don't try to get me out of your mind, Doctor. As long as I'm touching you, I have a 'foothole'."

"Have you been lucid any other time?" Strax asked, his voice ringing.

"Yes, a few times," he confessed easily.

"Did you experience a painful sensation each time, sir?" Strax interrogated.

"Yes, I did."

"Have you hurt yourself on purpose to try to become lucid?" the Madame said sharply, realizing that it was a likely scenario. "Once," he said, trying to placate them. "It worked."

The Madame's hands removed themselves from his head, and went towards the door.

"Jenny, Strax, and I need to have discussion in private. Please do not eavesdrop," she requested.

There was a weight to that request, and he decided to heed it completely. So while they exited and spoke of a matter that he wasn't to hear, he focused on reinforcing his psyche, which felt damaged (but not quite violated) from the Madame's intrusion. The intrusion felt wrong, but it was common procedure for telepaths that were being questioned.

A few minutes later, they came back in, and they started untying him.

"We're letting you go, but you will be under escort until we determine that you're able to take care of yourself. If you regress, then we'll break you out of it. You are not to break out of it yourself," the Madame stated. Then she stopped untying him and looked him in the eye. _"Is this understood?"_

"Yes, Madame," he said in candor, fearing what he would do to himself.

"Don't call me that," the Madame admonished, while she went over to him and helped him off the table and to his feet.

"How long was I out?" he asked.

"Over a day; we must give you less sedative," Strax said.

"The amount won't matter," he said, thinking back to his skewed internal time-sense (29 hours, 14 minutes, 3 seconds, 17 milliseconds, 95 nanoseconds), and he realized it wasn't off at all.

"Why not?" Jenny said.

"I'm not like humans. The amount doesn't matter, as long as it's enough to affect me at all. If it affects me, it will always take that time."

"Well that's nice to know," the Madame said. "We'll develop a new sedative, but hopefully you won't react in such a way that requires sedation again though."

"It won't," he promised solemnly, "I promise."

* * *

The next time he returned to his catatonic (disassociated) state, he wasn't with and "escort". It was when he was alone at night (they didn't lock him in the room, instead keeping the door open so he was assured that he could escape), and suddenly, he felt as if he was in a dream. With it being late in the night (past midnight, but well before morning), he didn't want to wait for them, or show them he had relapsed at all, so he tried to think (as lucidly as he could) of the way that would not alert them that he was hurting himself.

He couldn't kick the wall again (for they installed a noise-detector and attached it to the walls), and he couldn't think of anything else except...

So he watched as he moved out of the room, and into the kitchen. Then, he pulled the first-aid kit out of his pocket (they had taken his sonic screwdriver, so he couldn't escape into the night, and nearly everything else out of his pockets), and took a knife from the block near the corner of a counter...

* * *

**This is Spirit of Gray, and I apologize for character OOC-ness in this series, but I feel that if the Doctor was self-harming, the characters would act more serious, and there would be less comic-relief from Strax. So Strax is a bit edited out in this.**

**The Sunlight Worlds I mentioned are canon. Look up "The Dalek Generation".**

**This is a prequel for "Then Do Not Think".**

**Dankon!**

**The title is from "Cogito ergo sum" in Latin.**


End file.
